


Given

by JulesJackson1



Series: The Given Series [1]
Category: American Horror Story
Genre: Alternate Universe - American Horror Story: Asylum, Alternate Universe - American Horror Story: Coven, Alternate Universe - American Horror Story: Murder House, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulesJackson1/pseuds/JulesJackson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will be a mixed fan fiction about American Horror Story. Sexual content, drugs, rape, swearing, and other sensitive subjects will be included so please read at your own risk. If any of this is triggering for you, DO NOT READ!</p><p>---</p><p>   Riley Widow hated high school. She hated the teachers, the students, the classes. The everything. She hated the way the school didn't have air conditioning and she hated the way the students gossiped. But most of all, she hated Tate Langdon and his stupid smile and his stupid cute hair and everything about him was stupid, in her opinion. Everything about him was beautiful, too. But she would never tell anyone that.</p><p>     When Riley becomes desperate to feel some sort of human love or affection, she digs up the past of her mother to help her get along. But when a spell goes terribly wrong and changes the dynamic of everything, Riley feels herself getting closer and closer to side of her family she never wanted to be in contact with.</p><p>      And when Tate starts sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, things get ever more difficult.</p><p>---</p><p>Eh, sorry for the bad summary. I suck at shit like this...Well...hope you enjoy the story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snap

_Snap_

     It was days like that when I hated everything more than usual. Days when people decided it would be funny to pick on the odd grade eleven girl who could barely think straight after four cups of coffee and a Redbull. Days when everything felt happy and bright to everyone except me. But then again, I was used to those days. And on those days came _Tate fucking Langdon_. The son of a bitch who could never stop bugging me.

       Our love/hate - mostly hate on my side - relationship had started on the very first day of grade nine, when we both ran, head first, into each other on our way to different classes. He hadn't even stopped to say a single word to me and I had stood there for a minute wondering who that blonde haired guy was. Later that day, we ran into each other again but this time, he actually stopped to say sorry. It was quiet and muttered but it was a sorry and that's all that I was looking for so I just continued on my way.

      I still found him irritating. How he would walk through the school as if he owned the place but he was almost invisible to the teachers and the students. How he would lock himself in an empty class and spend hours in there, skipping classes and avoiding responsibilities. I didn't know why he got on my nerves but he did and it was confusing and annoying and for the last three years, I wished that I could understand why he bothered me.

       So there I was, standing outside the classroom he had been in for two hours, since he arrived at school. My fingers were curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms, and my bottom lip was between my teeth roughly, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I knew that I should've just got up and walked away but I didn't. I just stood there, watching the door and waiting for it to open so I could confront him about... _something_. What is was, I didn't know. But that didn't stop me from standing there.

      The bell rung for third period and I didn't move. People probably thought I was a freak but I didn't care. I just watched the light flicker underneath the door, as if a light bulb had just died and then come back to life.

       The door opened and Tate appeared, his curled blonde hair messier than normal and his pink lips in a tight line. He looked up at me and his eyes widened. His lips twitched into a smirk and he tilted his head to the side. "Hello Riley. Can I help you or are you just going to stand there?" He asked, his eyebrows raised in a somewhat challenging way.

       "I-I uh...I think Ieft my b-bag in there. I-I had art this morning." I lied easily. I jerked my chin at the bag sitting on the desk and blinked a few times. It wasn't my bag but that didn't matter.

     "Is it? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it's mine." His smirk grew.

      "Oh...well I, uh, must've left it in another class." I spun on my heels and hurried down the hall, hissing swears at myself. " _Fuck_."

      "Language, Miss Widow." A teacher warned.

       I didn't reply, I just kept walking. I reached my locker and dug my bag out of it, angrily stuffing books that I needed for studying and homework inside it before turning and speed walking towards the back exit. 

       I didn't usually skip classes but there were days when I needed to.

       I was almost out the door when something caught the other strap of my bag, jerking me back. I yelped and dropped the book in my hand, turning to see Tate standing behind me. He looked down at the book and in one swift movement, he went down to grab it, his arm brushing my leg on the way back up as he handed it to me. "I believe you dropped this." He said softly.

       "I did. Thanks." I said coldly, taking the book from him and holding it against my chest.

       "Do you have a problem with me, _Riley_?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

       I gritted my teeth together as I spat out a "No. I do not have a problem with you, _Tate_. Now please, let me be on my way." I said, pushing the doors open and stepping out into the autumn air. I let out a soft breathe and headed towards my car. Technically, I wasn't allowed to drive yet but no one gave a shit so I continued to drive anyway.

       I got into my car and swerved out of the parking lot, speeding down the street. I glanced into my rearview mirror and saw Tate standing on the front steps of the school, his pocket knife between his fingers as he flipped it in and out. I rolled down my window, stuck my hand out it, and flipped him off while I turned the corner.

      About half an hour later, I reached my house. I dragged my school stuff up the path and threw it onto the couch, growling and throwing the book Tate had picked up across the room. " _I fucking hate him_!" I screamed, running a hand through my multicoloured and pulling at it.

      My mother hurried downstairs, one hand holding a candle and the other holding a box of matches. "Riley! What the hell was that?" She asked, setting both of them down to take my hands away from my hair.

      I looked up at her and saw only fear and loathing in her eyes. I jerked my hands away. "Nothing. It was nothing. And if it was something, it wouldn't be your goddamn business because you don't give a shit anyway. Stop _pretending_ like you do." I snapped, skipping the stairs two at a time and storming down the hall to my room. I shoved the door open, locked it behind me, and leaned on it, my breathing heavy and uneven.

      My parents never really cared for me. They only put up with me because they knew something would happen if they put me up for adoption or gave me away. They fed me and clothed me and made sure I had somewhere to stay but sometimes I wish they had just let me rot on the street so I wouldn't have to deal with them and their shit. They pretend to care about me. They think what they do is called _love_. It's not. What they do doesn't matter. What they say, does. And all they had ever told me was that I was waste of skin and they wish I had never been born. Sometimes, I think I want the same damn thing.

      There was a timid knock on my door and someone cleared my throat. "Miss Widow? I made you lunch. You left school early again and I heard you enter so I prepared your favourite; grilled cheese and tomato soup. Come get it while it's hot." The maid said softly. Sometimes the maid was the only one who actually listened to me.

       "Is _she_ gone?"

       "She is. I asked her to pick up some garlic bread and noodles for tonight's dinner on her way back from the office. You can come out." 

       I pulled the lock on my door and opened it slowly, letting out a sigh as Amelia, our maid, took my hand. "I hate them so much." I breathed.

       She nodded, not saying a word, and lead me downstairs to the kitchen. She put a bowl of soup and plate of grilled cheese in front of me and gently stroked a lock of my hair, leaving the kitchen after.

       I ate in silence, my thoughts the only noise I heard.       

 

* * *

      "Do I have to go?" I asked my mother as her shadow moved behind her changing wall. I was stood in the doorway of her room, waiting for her to finish changing so we could go to some stupid Halloween party when it wasn't even Halloween. I've always been against parties so going to it made no sense to me. And why she was bringing me along was a bigger mystery.

      "Yes, you have to go. It is a neighbourhood gathering and if you do not go, people will think that we are not a decent family. What kind of mother would I be if I let you stay behind during a social event like this?" She said.

       I shifted to the other side of the doorframe. "A good one."

       She appeared from behind the wall and gave me a look as she poked an earring through her ear. And I silently wished that she would stab herself instead of the ear. "Don't be so boring, Riley. This is the first social event I have ever made you go to and you're already complaining. Stop and let's go." She said, grabbing her bag and brushing past me.

       She was dressed in a deep green, tight fit dress with diamonds along the neckline - which scooped _way_ too low for her.

       I was dressed in a red high waisted skirt, a black crop top with lace on it, and black lace up boots. I had managed to find the choker Amelia had given when we first moved in and it was snug against my neck, the pentagram pendant hanging from the black silk.

       We walked down the street to one of the biggest houses on the block and immediately got greeted by the owners, Henrietta and Jeremy Cobalt. Henrietta gave me a look over and forced a smile. "The teenagers are having a party a few blocks away. Why don't you go there and... _attempt_ to have fun?" She suggested, her tone giving her false niceness away.

      I glanced at my mother and without a second thought, I turned and left. I headed down the street and towards the loud music that was coming from my right. After walking for about ten minutes, I found the house the party was being held at.

      The house was old and I had heard stories about it, about what happened inside. But none of that really bothered me. I enjoyed a good haunted house every now and again.

      I climbed the steps and took a breath before knocking on the door.

     Not only did I hate people, I hated social situations as well. So when the door opened to reveal a ton of teenagers inside, I felt my heart drop and my stomach twist. Most of them were too busy dancing and drinking to notice me as I made my way across the living room. But others noticed and they just smirked, as if they knew something about me that I didn't. I wound up in the kitchen so I dug through the fridge for something to drink, ending up with a Dr. Pepper in my hand.

     "Uh, could you maybe move your _fat ass_ so I can get at the beer?" A voice asked rudely.

     I looked behind me and saw Nico, the school's biggest - and ugliest- guy. I tilted my chin up and held the smirk off my face, sipping my soda slowly. "And if I don't?" I challenged, making eye contact as if he was a bear and I was trying to scare him off.

     "I'll break your face." He growled.

     I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up and burst out. I clutched my drink tighter and wiped the tears from my eyes once I was done. "Oh my God, that was good. You really think you can break my face? I could break each and every single one of your fingers before you even fucking blinked. I wouldn't try, if I were you." I said, setting my drink down. It was true, I could. When I was younger, the one good thing my parents actually did for me was enrol me in self defence classes.

      "Yeah, _right,_ " he chuckled. "prove it."

      I reached forward and gripped the wrist of the hand that was on the fridge door. I quickly spun him around and bent his arm back, taking his fingers and snapping them quickly. I shoved him away and crossed my arms.

      I think I'm the first person ever to make Nico Walters cry. Because that's what he was doing. He on his knees, on the floor, sobbing as he held his fingers. He looked up at me and stood quickly, running through the crowd.

      I smiled and reached for my drink, turning to see his mother in the doorway. "Oh shit."


	2. A Week of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a lot of pointless sex in this story but the first sex scene is the most important so don't forget it.

_A Week of Peace_

    After getting told off by Nico's mother, the host of the party made me leave. Not that I'm complaining. I hated the party anyway. It's an excuse for horny teens to grind and fuck and make out. It _disgusts_ me. There's more to life then just fucking. But then again, to teenagers, that's all there is.

    I shuffled down the stairs of the house and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my bra, removing a stick from the package and reaching into the other side of my bra for my father's lighter. After he died, I went through his stuff to find it. I liked the pattern on the side. It was a pentagram, much like my choker, but it was painted black. I lit the smoke and set it between my lips, sighing when I heard footsteps behind me. "Nico, if you're here to get your revenge, it's not gonna happen. I will make sure you lose your eye sight and basically every other funtion your body might have." I said, continuing to walk.

     "It's not Nico." A voice spoke.

     I glanced over my shoulder and scowled. " _Tate_...Of course. What the hell do you want? Can't you see that I want to be alone to think about how I want to murder everyone?" 

     "So you do have a problem with me." He said, matching my walking pace. I wasn't walking much faster than a stroll so it wasn't hard for him to walk next to me.

     I shrugged. "For some unknown reason, I find you extremely irritating. But that doesn't matter, does it?" I asked, rolling my head back to blow smoke at the sky, the stars twinkling above us. I looked over at him and stopped walking, shifting my weight to my right foot and looking him up and down.

     I wasn't going to lie, Tate was really good looking. His shoulders were broad and sexy - just the way I liked them - and his eyes were a shining blue that makes my heart flutter. But at the same time, everything about him made me sick. From the way he smirked to the way he twirled his hair when he was thinking. His stupid blonde hair and his stupid pale skin and _fuck_...I wanted him.

     "You're staring at me." He pointed out, his lips upturned ever so slightly.

     "So what if I am?" I asked, taking a drag.

     He looked down, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. "Ya know...a beautiful girl once told me that staring at someone is creepy."

     I felt my cheeks light up so I looked away, walking down the street again. "Whatever you say..."

     "That girl was you, Riley. It was one of our only conversations." He said, jogging to keep up with me.

     I flicked my cigarette away, spinning on him. "Look, Tate, I get that you're trying to be...whatever...but I just can't accept that. I don't understand why I hate you but I do and I hate that I hate you but I'm not gonna go against what my brain is saying." I said, not entirely sure if I was making any sense.

     "And what's your heart saying?" He asked slowly.

     I swallowed. "It's mute. My heart has never had an impact of what I've done. It's basically an organism in my chest that bumps blood through my veins but I can't feel it. It wouldn't show a heart beat. It wouldn't do anything. It's basically dead. I can't listen to my heart if it can't talk." I replied, running a hand through my hair and shaking my head. I turned and sprinted down the street.

      "Wait I - Riley wait!" He yelled after me.

      I burst into my house and closed the door quickly behind me. I closed my eyes. "I did not just say that to Tate fucking Langdon..."

     "Say what, Miss Widow?" Amelia asked as she bustled through the entrance hall.

     "Nothing. Uh...when my mother gets home, tell her I had a headache and went to be. Yeah...tell her that." I ran up the stairs and into my room, practically ripping my clothes and boots off. I threw myself onto the bed and stared at my ceiling, the intricate black designs sweeping along the navy colour. I twisted my black sheets in my fingers and chewed my cheek. "Shit, shit, shit..."

* * *

 

     The next day, I woke to silence in the house. No high heels tapping on the floor. No sizzling sounds of bacon on the stove. Nothing. 

     I pushed myself out of bed and pulled on shorts and a tight fit tank top, rushing downstairs to see no body. I ran into the kitchen and saw it empty as well. I braced myself on the sink.

     Where the fuck is my mother and Amelia? 

     I went to the fridge to grab a drink and saw a note on the front, written in my mother's hand writing. I plucked it off the smooth sruface and leaned on the counter as I read it.

      _Riley,_

_I am with my parents for Thanksgiving. Amelia is with her sister for Thansgiving. She will be home in a week, I will be home in two. Don't wreck the house._

_-Mother_

    I scowled. Of course she wouldn't tell me she was leaving. I expected as much. I crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash, pulling open the fridge and retreiving a Pepsi from the door. I opened it and sat on the counter, which would normally be forbidden in my house. I sat there and drank the soda, watching the clock tick by slowly. When I was finished, I tossed the can out and headed upstairs, into my mother's room.

    Her room was very different from mine. It wasn't dark or depressing. It was almost all white and beige and sandy orange. Her bed spread had small grey flowers spreading across the white material. The only somewhat vintage and dark thing in the room was a wooden chest at the bottom of her bed, a lock keeping it closed.

    I walked over to her vanity and pulled out two long hair pins. Then, I kneeled at the chest and picked the lock, grinning when it clicked and fell to the floor. I pushed the top of the chest up and peeked inside, moving around a few shawls and books before finding what I was looking for.

    At the bottom of the chest was a small, red leather bound journal. Hanging from the middle of the pages was a small pendant bookmark with a cross on it.

    My mother had always been religious and I think that's what bothered me. The fact that she would push her religion on me when I wanted nothing to do with it. 

    I threw the bookmark aside and sat back, opening the journal and turning to the page I last left off on.

     _May 1995, 2:30 AM_

_That goddamn baby won't sleep and I swear if it screams one more time, I'll slit its throat and throw it out the window for the dogs to eat. I hate children. I hate my wife. I hate everything. Somedays I wish my parents had killed me when they got the chance, instead of bailing me out of jail. They could've gotten rid of me but they didn't. I hate them for it._

_June 1995, 12:30 AM_

_I was so close to killing the kid. I could almost hear the silence. I could almost feel it surrounding me. It was like a peaceful cloak. She still hasn't done anything about the garbage yet. She's useless. As my wife, she should do everything I ask and she does the opposite. Of course she does. She's a dumb bitch._

    I closed the journal and chewed my lip, leaning against the chest and tossing the book back into it. "Well, that explains a lot." I stood and headed back downstairs, pacing around the kitchen before starting to make spaghetti. Spaghetti for breakfast. Yum.

    I was in the middle of dishing myself a plate when there was a knock on the door. I peeked around the corner of the kitchen and slowly crept down the hall, pulling the front door open. My eyes widened and I fixed my shirt and shorts. "Uh...Wh-what're you doing here?"

    Tate was standing on my front steps, his blonde hair messy and his eyes drooping. "You dropped this." He said, sliding my father's lighter into my hand.

    I stared down at it and set it on the table inside the door. "Right. Thanks. Look, Tate, about what I said last night...just forget about it, okay? I was upset and confused and-"

    His leaned forward and cupped my face, pushing me into the house and closing the door with his foot. "Riley, shut up, okay? I don't need you to explain it to me, I get it. I just came by to give back the lighter. Wait...where's your mother? She's usually hissing at me by now..." He said, glancing over my shoulder at the empty house.

    "She and Amelia are both gone for a week or so to see family." I said, stepping back.

    "Does that mean you're alone?" He asked.

    I nodded. "Yeah...But whatever, I don't like hanging around with my mother anyway."

    "I know that." He smirks.

    "Of course you do."

    Without warning, Tate grabbed my face and brought our lips together, gripping my jaw tightly. I let out a soft whimper and hammered his chest with my fists but he didn't budge, so I just settled my hands on his shirt, fisting the material in my fingers. I stepped forward and pushed him against the wall, sliding my hands up to his hair and tugging. "Tate," I gasped between his kisses. "stop."

    He didn't. He just kept going, his lips pressing to mine harder and hotter than the previous kisses. His hands slid to my thighs and he quickly picked me up, trading places so I was backed against the wall, held up by him. He groaned. "Riley, _shit_ , I've wanted you for so long..."

   I didn't respond. I just let him kiss me, my body more than willing to let him. I felt his nails dig into my skin and his teeth started biting at my lips, pulling on them whenver he saw fit. I let out a small moan when his tongue slid into my mouth. I arched into his touch when jeans rubbed my soaked shorts.

   God, I was so done trying to fight this.

   I wrapped my legs around his hips and ground us together, letting out a loud moan. "Room...it's upstairs on the-"

   "Right, I know." He smirked and carried me upstairs quickly, laying me on my bed gently and crawling over me. His hair hung in his face and his eyes got darker with lust, his lips ghosting over mine gently. "Are you a virgin?" He asked softly.

    I blushed. "What do you think?"

    He chuckled. "Yeah, sorry..." His lips pushed against mine again and he ran his hands over my hips and stomach, underneath my shirt to my chest where I wasn't wearing a bra. His fingers quickly pulled my nipples and I whined needily, lifting my chest into his touch. He nipped and licked at my neck, massaging and teasing my nipples to hear me moan. "Perfection..."

    My hips bucked up to create friction between our touching crotches, his hard on now pressed against me. "Tate, now, _please_..." I begged,

   He kneeled back, pulling his shirt off and unbuckling his jeans shoving them off his legs so he was left in only boxers. He reached forward me and tugged my shirt off, leaning down to suck one of my nipples while he wiggled my shorts down my legs, his fingers brushing over the skin once they were off. While his mouth and one hand played with my chest, making me squirm and whimper and moan, the other hand slid between my legs, gently pressing against the wet material. His thumb rubbed me gently and I jerked my hips, my legs quivering.

   "Oh God, _Tate_!" I cried out, clenching the sheets in my fingers while he continued playing with me.

   He did this for a while and it seemed to drag on for hours. I would get close and he would stop, focusing on my chest or neck or lips. Then, he would continue, rubbing harder or faster than the last time. Eventually, he pulled my panties off.

   His eyes scanned over my body and his face relaxed into a small smile, as if he was really seeing me. "You're so beautiful, Riley..."

   I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, moaning softly as the cold air of my fan blew across me. "Langdon, I swear to _God_ if you don't do something right now, I'll hurt you."

   He rolled his eyes and lowered himself between my legs, his tongue licking over my clit and swirling around it quickly. I couldn't help the gasps that left my lips, my mouth opening and my eyes clenching tighter, the heat spreading throughout my body. His tongue pushed into me and I reached down, grabbing a hold of his hair and pulling him closer. " _Yes_..." I hissed.

   He pulled away and quickly pushed two fingers in, curling them to brush over the exact spot where I needed it the most. The spot I could never reach. He brushed his lips over ear and thrust his fingers deep, one hand on my hip. "So tight for me, huh? You're so tight and warm and wet and I can't wait to bury my cock in you. Can't wait to feel your pussy clench around my dick..." He groaned, adding a third finger and spreading them gently.

  My eyes widened at his words but I didn't respond, only let out a little whimper.

  He continued fingering me, whispering dirty things to me that only made me wetter. He pulled his fingers put and pushed his boxers down I almost fucking drooled at the sight of him. He was long and thick and God he was hard. His cock was red and swollen and begging me to touch him. So I did.

   I reached forward and gently gripped him, jacking him slowly as I kneeled. I ran my thumb over his head, spreading the pre-cum around, and looked up at him.

   His face was screwed up, his bottom lip between his teeth and his nose scrunched. One of his hands was in his own hair and the other was hanging beside him, as if he didn't know was to do with it. 

    I guided his other hand to my hair and licked his head, pulling everything I knew about blowjobs out of my head. I took half of him in my mouth and sucked, moaning as how he throbbed. I started bobbing my head, holding his base and one of his thighs as I sucked. He tightened his grip in my hair, so hard tears came to my eyes. But I blinked them away and kept going, grazing my teeth over his gently before flattening my tongue along his shaft.

     "Mmph... _Riley_...Oh fuck, close..." He breathed.

    I pulled off and laid back, spreading my legs again. "C'mon then..."

    He crawled forward and positioned himself between my legs, his tip teasing my clit. He slid over my entrance and gently pressed into me, his eyes closing as adjusted. I gave his bicep a little squeeze to let him know I was okay and he started moving, pumping in and out of me slowly, delibrately taking his time. I let my mouth fall open, my breathing picking up slightly as I felt him stretch me and rub inside. "Oh Tate..."

    "Ah... _Jesus_..." He picked up speed, sliding in and out of me quickly. I moaned when he went deeper, forcing me to take all of him and stretch to take it all. I wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling at the hair hanging there, and held his arm with the other, following his movements with my own, rocking and back and forth like a metronome.

    I clenched around him, pushing against his shoulders until he was on his back. I slid down on him and started rocking and grinding my hips, watching as his face changed each time I moved. He groaned underneath me and held my hips, his fingers leaving bruises on my pale skin.

    It felt so good. It felt so good to have him this close to me, to have him in me. I didn't care about why I hated him or anything else. Because right then, I was getting exactly what I knew I wanted.

    His hips bucked up to me and I gasped, dragging my nails down his chest. He twitched inside me and I lost it. I rocked my hips harder and came, leaning down to kiss him as I rode out my orgasm. When I was done, he pulled out quickly and pumped himself, releasing all over my thighs, hips, and stomach. 

    I looked down at him and panic washed over me. "Oh my God...Oh no...I-I didn't just - We didn't just - _Fuck_!" I climbed off him and pulled on my shorts and shirt, tugging at the bottom of my shorts, wishing they were longer. "You need to leave. Like...now."

    He sat up. "Why? I thought you-"

    "For once in your life, Tate, could you please just...leave me alone?" I begged, looking at him with pleading eyes.

    He stood and cleaned himself off, pulling his clothes back on. "Whatever..." He mumbled as he left my room. A few minutes later, I heard the door close, the sound echoing in my head.

    I sat on the end of my bed and looked down, the feeling of guilt and regret washing over me. "What did I just do?"


End file.
